Broken glass might cut your hands
by SpiltWords
Summary: In modern France the Amis are fighting to try and make the world a better place when they discover how the crooks and thieves are getting their money using stolen medical technology to freeze innocent people. ((It's not as tacky as it sounds))


They had planned this for months, almost a year in fact. Ever since the very first protest during their first year of university they had grown in numbers and even power, they were well known names through out of Paris for the good they had done. From helping to shut down a large majority of the black market to tracking down various drug mules across the country. They had managed to get the government to give more help to those that needed it and now, here they stood, in front of what looked like an old warehouse but they knew it was something more.

Inside stood rows of glass cases. It had recently been discovered that those who ran the Parisian underworld had found a new way to get the debts that were owed to them. Using family members as either a payment or a threat, they were brought here, locked in the cases where they were frozen. It had been invented for hospital use, for those that were sick and there was no available treatment at the time but it was no where near fully tested and no one knew how these people had gotten their hands on it, but somehow they had.

Joly had been the one to discover this information, he was one of the medical students that had been enlisted in researching the prototype. A few of the tanks were meant to be delivered to the facility that he worked in, only they never turned up and after to numerous phone calls and emails, it was discovered a lorry carrying them had been hijacked and this was where they had been taken to.

The Government hadn't listened, they didn't care. Anything that was messy or didn't concern the wealthier of the country's population was ignored and pushed a side. So, here they were. Enjolras, Combeferre and Bahorel all stood outside the doorway to the warehouse as Courfeyrac waited across the road in his car for them and the rest of their friends sat in the Musain that had been bought and made into their headquarters when it had been put up for sale a few years before.

Bahorel grinned at the other two, Combeferre giving him a small smile whilst Enjolras remained stoic, staring at the door in front of them. Without another word Bahorel knocked on the door and within a moment they were greeted by a pair of crinkled eyes staring at them around the door. Enjolras stepped forward, nodding at the man. "I've come to pay my debts."

"And who might they be to?" The man asked, raising his eyebrow at them suspiciously as he eyed them over. After much debate with their friends it had been decided that they needed to dress down, make themselves look poorer and it seemed to pay off as the door was opened wider and allowed them a view of inside. Inside rows of the glass cases stood, filling up the entire space. A few rooms lined the far left side but otherwise, that was all there was behind the tinted windows.

"Brujon," Combeferre answered for him as he recalled the man he had been researching. It seemed that he owned a majority of the cases here, enough that it wouldn't seem suspicious for them to owe him. Feuilly had followed the man for a few hours, making sure he was far away and would not be able to disturb them and on the off chance that he did begin heading this way, Bahorel would receive a phone call and they would hopefully escape in time.

The man nodded his head as he stepped aside to let them in and Enjolras took the lead, marching forward as his two friends and the stranger followed him, calling after him that it wasn't protocol for him to go looking for his relative but to give his name and have them fetched but one glare from Bahorel was enough to make him fall silent.

Hearing the sound of heavy foot steps a number of people looked up curiously from where they were dotted around the room. The further they walked into the warehouse the more that joined them, watching them despite Bahorel sizing them each up and Combeferre nudging Enjolras in the ribs to try and get him to slow down but it was no use.

Enjolras' jaw stiffened as he quickly began to calculate how many of the cases were occupied and it seemed that they all were, despite a couple that looked as if they had been recently emptied. People of all ages, men, women, children occupied the cases, no one was immune to being brought here and Enjolras visibly grimaced as he looked at a girl that must have been no older than five, dressed in her pyjamas and hugging a teddy in one of the cases. He tightened his hands into fists in his pockets as he continued to walk, oblivious to what was going on around him when Combeferres voice interrupted his thoughts. "Eponine," he breathed, grabbing Enjolras' arm. He looked to where he was pointing and sure enough, there she was behind the glass. Her face was pale and bruised, her hair tangled around her face but it was clearly her in her trade mark green, torn jacket.

"Who? Her?" The man behind him barked out a laugh as he stepped between them and the case. "Nah, it's Thenardier that owes us his money for her. Besides, she's not one of Brujons."

"Then let us pay off the debt," Combeferre told the man as he tried to get a better look at the girl who more often than not occupied one of the many bean bags that Jehan had filled the Musain with. She rarely spoke much, in fact she was often there before any of them were when they trailed in on a morning. She had once been Marius' girlfriend a year or so ago, it was only for a matter of months and none of them truly knew what happened but after they broke up she showed up less and less.

Enjolras was about to protest as the man rocked on his heals, looking them over once again. "Don't normally let people do that," he told them as he sucked his teeth. "Ten thousand euros."

Combeferres jaw dropped as he stared at the girl, frowning as he took a step back. Bahorel gave him a hard pat on the back, ready to admit defeat when Enjolras nodded his head. "I have that," he told him simply. "We want her out of there first though."

"Enjolras, what are you-" Bahorel began to question him before the blonde gave him a look that told him to be quiet and so, he did. The three men watched as the man called for another to come open the case. Soon enough the brown haired girl was being pulled out of the case and pushed towards them, still in what seemed an unconscious state. With Enjolras quickly paying the man, the other two turned away and began to walk towards the door with Bahorel carrying her in his arms, knowing Enjolras wouldn't be far behind them.

As soon as they were outside, Bahorel turned to look at Enjolras. "That's a lot of money, you know?" When Enjolras only grunted in return he raised his eyebrow. "Thought you didn't even like the kid, anyway?"

"I never said I didn't like her, I said her presence annoyed me," he replied sharply as they hurried towards the waiting car. "I thought she might be able to help us."

Courfeyrac raised his eyebrow as he glanced in the mirror, looking at Eponine who was now wedged between Combeferre and Bahorel, her head lolling onto the fighters shoulder before he shrugged his shoulders and began to drive.

* * *

Eponine was still unconscious when they arrived at the Musain and as if psychic, Joly was already waiting at the door as he nervously wrung his hands together. His frown grew as he watched Bahorel scoop the girl up in his arms, half throwing her over his shoulder as he headed for the door, the other three trailing behind him.

"Where did-" Joly began before Bahorel nodded his head towards Enjolras and the medical student instantly understood. "Be careful with her, we don't know if she has any injuries or damage and for god sake don't let her touch anything, we don't know how sterile the environment was that she was kept in!"

Bahorel laughed light heartedly as he headed through the corridor and placed her down in the room that had been made into a make shift medical room after they realised that more often than not someone returned with an injury, plus it put Jolys mind to rest and stopped a majority of his lectures that had begun to drive the bunch of friends insane.

When they entered Jehan was sat on one of the counters, swinging his legs as he scribbled more poetry on the back of his hand. He'd filled up all of his notebooks that he kept in the Musain, along with a majority of Jolys paper, including adding little poems on the bottom of his notes despite his protests. When he spotted Eponine he slipped to his feet and skipped over to the bed that she had been placed on and swatted Bahorel away, feeling at her forehead. Somehow Jehan had managed to slip into the role of nurse, helping Joly when he needed him.

Enjolras sighed as he followed them inside, crossing his arms against his chest as he watched medical student, along with the help of Jehan, begin to assess the girl. "When will she wake up?"

Jehan looked up at him and smiled. "Patience, dear leader," he told him as he began fussing over moving Eponines hair out of the way. "She will wake when she is ready."

"What he means to say is that when this has worn off she will wake up but only time will tell," Joly clarified as he quickly rummaged through one of the neatly organised draws and pulling out a needle.

"We need to see what she knows about that place," Enjolras told them sternly as he turned away, heading for the door. "Combeferre, find me when she wakes up."

He had barely stepped out of the room as there was a loud clatter, following by Jehans soothing voice. He turned back around curiously, finding Eponine sat up on the bed staring at all of them as they all watched her in bewilderment. "Where am I?" She demanded. "Who are you?"

Maybe this wasn't going to be so simple after all.


End file.
